Fair Play
by corneroffandom
Summary: Words can be just as cruel as actions.


"Amigo, do you want another drink?" Alberto Del Rio asks, his heavily accented voice cutting through Ricardo's thoughts, the younger man blinking in surprise when he looks up to find his employer's hand already reaching towards his empty glass. "Are you alright?"

"Oh. Uh, si, El Patron. Si, I'm fine. Just thinking." He swallows as Alberto stares at him, eyes narrowing in worry. "Si, another drink would be nice. Gracias." Del Rio apparently decides to drop his ring announcer's distraction for now because he nods, collecting both of their glasses and quietly leaving the table, pausing only long enough to tousle Ricardo's hair on his way by. His hand going to his throat, brushing against the restraining protection of his orthopaedic neck pillow, he closes his eyes and sighs. Only when a shadow falls across him does he open his eyes once more, shifting his upper body awkwardly to look up without moving his neck too much, his whole body still sore from the attack laid upon him by the Big Show days earlier.

As soon as his eyes lock on who's standing by the table, the very man who'd caused him to need the neck support, he pales and tries to scoot his chair back, movements painful and jerky no matter how quickly he tries to get up. When large hands land roughly upon his shoulders, all but pinning him to the chair, he whimpers and stares up in horror, shaking. "No, no, Big Show-"

The giant laughs derisively, shaking his head. "I'm not here to hurt you, Ricardo. This time." He sneers down at the frozen ring announcer before moving his hands off of his shoulders and sitting down in the chair that Del Rio had vacated only a few moments earlier, crossing his arms against his chest as he eyes him. "I admit I don't pay much attention to the idiotic commentators but I have heard something from JBL that, well, makes sense to me about you."

Ricardo, disgusted with just how incapable he is of getting up and running far, far away, stares on as the man responsible for most of his physical agony the past month sits nonchalantly across from him as if none of that had happened. "Wha- what do you want from me?" he asks, each word a struggle against his bone-dry lips.

Big Show chuckles again and leans forward. "You know, sometimes I can almost see why so many people fawn over you. It's ridiculous but you have a bizarre kind of self-effacing charm about you, I guess is the best way to describe it. If you worked for anyone other than Del Rio, I probably wouldn't have a problem with you." The ring announcer still looks confused and Show smirks. "You haven't heard JBL's comments, by the looks of it."

Ricardo releases a shuddering breath, wishing his neck was 100% so he could try to look for his employer, see what the hold up was in getting those sodas. He'd stopped listening to the commentators a very long time ago, knowing that usually what they had to say wasn't very flattering to him or his employer. "I, I don't care what they say," he finally says, trying to reflect some of his employer's strength. "It's of no consequence-"

"JBL is certain the only reason you're friends with Del Rio is because he pays you. In fact, and this is truly hilarious to me, he says if Del Rio stopped paying you tomorrow, you'd immediately stop caring about his career, and more importantly, him." He sits forward and sneers at the shocked ring announcer. "Now is that true, Ricardo? Are you so easily bought? Hmm?"

He swallows desperately and wonders once more where Alberto is, but the longer he remains quiet, the more amused Big Show seems, taking it as some sort of silent admission. Ricardo's discomfort turns into annoyance, into aggravation. _After all of this time... _"Of course not!" he snaps with such vehemence that Show looks surprised, his thin eyebrows raising along his bare forehead. "He is my best friend, I don't need paid to care about him. I will always want the best for him, and help as much as I can for him to have it..." His words trail away when he realizes eyes are on him from around the room, his words loud and passionate, Big Show's lips turning into a mocking sneer, but before he can say or do anything-

"Get out of here, you giant perro," Alberto's dark, protective voice snarls over them, Ricardo's heart skipping a beat and the large competitor's eyes darkening in hatred as he looks up at the Mexican aristocrat. "Leave him alone. You have done enough. Go now, or else."

Big Show shrugs, his sneer growing, and finally he makes it to his feet, just to lean down by the nervous ring announcer, ignoring as Alberto tenses behind him, ready to defend the younger man if need be. "As passionate as that speech was... I don't believe you," he hisses before standing up straight and, mocking the other man, winks at him exaggeratedly before lumbering off.

As soon as they're alone and Del Rio has sat down next to Ricardo, the ring announcer releases a tense breath, shuddering harshly while fighting to not respond vocally to the scene that his employer had just interrupted, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. When Alberto cups his hands, trying to ease their trembling, he finally looks up at his best friend and sniffs. "Lo siento, lo siento, I didn't mean to make a scene-"

"No, no, mi amigo, no apologies," Alberto shakes his head, smiling as Ricardo blinks at him, his hands slowing in Alberto's palm. "It's fine, you did nothing wrong. In fact, I enjoyed seeing you stand up for yourself to that idiota."

"Really?" he breathes out, eyes gleaming with relief as his employer nods. "You... believe me, right? I... I'm not just here for the..."

Alberto interrupts, not wanting or needing to hear something he already has known deep in his soul for years. "JBL is a fool, mi amigo. I _know_ that you are not here just for the money. We are best friends, and you have shown me unceasing loyalty when I least deserved it. I do not listen to him, I do not listen to those who _do_ listen to him. You and I, we are the only ones who matter when it comes to the pure truth of our friendship. Don't let him or that giant perro put doubts in your mind, or make you think that I doubt you. Alright?"

"Of course, El Patron. Gracias." Ricardo's smile, only growing when his employer pushes over the soda that he'd gotten up to get for him in the first place, adds to Del Rio's relief that he'll be able to move past this unfortunate situation quickly, not dwelling on Big Show or JBL's ridiculous claims.


End file.
